


Left

by BoltedBee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abandonment, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Memory Loss, One Night Stands, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26854210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoltedBee/pseuds/BoltedBee
Summary: Roadhog up and leaves one day without a word. Junkrat decides he doesn't need a bodyguard anyway.But boy does he miss him sometimes.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Roadhog | Mako Rutledge
Kudos: 32





	Left

**Author's Note:**

> I'm only semi new to contributing to the fandom. I mostly/used to write Transformers, so if you're new to my work, thank you for giving me a chance. I wanted to post something of my OTP that sets the general mood of a lot of the things I tend to write. Not that everything will be going forward. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

_“One day, I'm just gonna leave you.”_

Even if he never believed them, those words often jumbled around in a chaotic mess in the back of Junkrat's mind. Roadhog was full of threats - most of them empty, some at least half full. There were times the massive hand would wrap around that delicate throat in such a threat but eventually let go. Junkrat would always just laugh it off or have the frustration built between them burned off with a rough rooting.

Today was not one of those days.

Roadhog was gone. Out without a word. Those same threatening words floated around Junkrat's frazzled mind.

Junkrat didn't take it personally at first. He could easily distract himself with some tinkering to his bombs, his launcher, even his own prostheses until the big guy returned. He may or may not have set something on fire in his boredom. But the minutes turned to hours, and they seemed to turn to days before he knew it. Before the motel owner tried to harass him for another night's worth of payment. Before Rat had to threaten to blow the place sky-high to stay another night just to watch out the window for the telltale light of Hog's chopper to signal his return. But still there was nothing, and he wasn't about to spend any actual coin to stick around; the owner could have called the cops at any time if he wanted to.

Eventually though, Junkrat had given up on the hold and picked up and left. He didn't know how far he would get to their nearest safehouse but it was a way better option than the lonely motel he’d shared a bed with Roadhog in not one day prior. It was shitty of Hog to just up and leave with no hint of how long he'd be gone.

And Hog would come back soon, right?

_“One day, I'm just gonna leave you.”_

That's what Junkrat reminded himself of as he hitched some odd rides to the intended destination, giving over more than just a few shiny gold pieces to ferry himself so far. One particular truck ride he’d hitched had left his jaw feeling stiff and sore. Another left him limping more than usual, but it got him farther along. The pain was worth it though, so long as he interpreted his bodyguard's intentions correctly. 'Just keep moving' was almost his unspoken mantra after so many years of flying solo, so Junkrat knew Hog would be there, waiting for him. All the supplies they needed, with the explanation he was just dying to hear from that muffled face.

Junkrat couldn't help but grin to himself imagining seeing Hog's leather face again, even if the big lug complained about him being late. After all, Rat did what he could to get where he was. He couldn't be blamed for not being punctual, could he? If anything, it was Hog's fault for leaving him behind in the first place!

He threw open the door, ready to berate old pig-face for the stunt he pulled-

The house was dark. Quiet. Cold.

Junkrat suddenly felt unwelcome in a place he'd claimed as his own. And Roadie's. He wasn't here. He hadn't even been here _recently_ as far as he could tell. And suddenly, Rat didn't want to be here either. But, he kicked the flimsy door closed with his peg, tossing his bag and tire to the ground next to him without a care, muttering to himself about the fatass being late. He giggled to himself, just trying to anticipate when the older man might return. Junkrat hobbled through the tiny, dark house, feeling out the hallway wall to the meager bedroom and plopping down on it. It smelled stale. Unused. They hadn't been to this house in months, so any trace of them had long disappeared. That would change soon enough.

Wouldn't it?

Hours went by and Junkrat didn't sleep. Didn't eat what little of the snacks he was left with, didn't bathe while he had such a rare chance, could barely entertain himself with the throwaway phone he'd had for weeks now. Weeks that his bodyguard had been gone. But he didn't think about that. Junkrat's mind drifted everywhere and nowhere; what explosives could he craft, whether they were on the news at this very moment- should he just jerk off to pass the time? It felt like forever since he'd seen Hog and he had no one to bounce his ideas off of, no one to talk at, no one to pin him to the dusty mattress...

He was bored as shit.

Maybe the local bar was open? Though the house was a minute away from a small town, it was in reasonable walking distance. If Junkrat remembered correctly (and that wasn’t often), it wasn’t exactly the safest place, either. Perfect to blend in, so long as Roadie could watch his-

Oh. Guess not this time.

But he needed _something_ to do. A spot of danger was always fun. So, couldn't hurt to check when he was so on edge just wondering where his other half was. It was practically a nightmare just sitting up and waiting for him like some lovesick housewife; so off the bed he went, rummaging through his belongings to search for one of the two shirts he kept with him just to blend in. Rat pulled it on, glad it smelled not only of his signature smoke and char, but the faint smell of leather and metal as well. Normally he couldn’t give a shit less what his clothes smelled like, but if he wanted to attract the right attention, he probably shouldn’t smell “bad”. He grinned to himself again as he left the safety of the house to find excitement in some local dive bar.

Junkrat didn't expect the usual excitement that came from leveling a building with homemade explosives but he was hoping vaguely for a sexual equivalent after reaching the bar. Roadie couldn't blame him for wanting to blow off a little steam, could he?

Nah, of course not.

Besides, it's not as if Hog didn't indulge in his own little fantasies without him, right? Exactly. Fuck Hog. Junkrat was going to have fun all on his own tonight.

After only a few shots of top-shelf (or whatever passed for such in this shady town) booze while scoping out the local wildlife, Junkrat made a fuzzy mental note of each of his “targets”. For once he paid his tab immediately, more in the mood for a fuck rather than a fight if he walked out on it. Surprisingly, it took Rat record time to find someone to take a fancy to him. It was a bit of a shock when - in his experience - so few could tolerate his grating voice or constant giggling. But there was a choice few who could look past that to just see Rat's body; the slender frame, toned muscle, overall twinkish figure ready to devour at just a glance. This decided partner just wanted the wiry frame for a night, and that was fine. The intoxicated man had pulled Junkrat into his lap after the blonde’s initial advances, giving him no less than the most lecherous grin he could probably muster. It all sat just fine for Rat. At least for now. He couldn't replace Roadie, though. No one could.

_“I'm just gonna leave you.”_

Junkrat shook away the words again. They didn't mean anything, especially while the blonde dragged the much larger frame – twice his bulk at least – out the door before being led to the stranger’s car and soon to the tiny abode he temporarily called his. Truthfully, the stranger looked nothing like his beloved bodyguard – save for the wide, imposing figure and white hair – not similar at all! All he needed was the temporary companionship. Just for an hour or two.

. . .

But, the next day had left Junkrat sore and oddly empty. It wasn't that unusual if his mind stayed unfocused long enough. As he woke from his rest, he realized how much his head was pounding. He whined at the pressure in his temple, made worse by the light filtering in through damaged blinds on the window. He stretched his arms a bit, then turned over to wake Roadhog-

_This wasn't Roadhog._

Rat flinched back immediately at the unfamiliar form in his bed, panicking for a moment. Not wanting to think about it, he hastily threw on a wrinkled shirt and shorts from the previous day- just lying precariously on the floor- before grabbing his bag and hobbling out the door.

_“I'm just gonna leave you.”_

But why was he there??

Having walked into the nearest town – while tying up his ruffled hair and throwing on a pair of shades – he remembered now he'd needed to find a new spot to set up. Even if it was no place at all. Living alone for so long, Junkrat knew how to make due with so little. He didn't have much in the way of his specialty remaining, but he was fortunate that even the most basic of noise makers were easy to come by. Providing a distraction was always key.

But that was the point, wasn't it? He was alone. No Roadhog to watch his back, to control his impulses, to hold him close when his heart was hammering in his throat-

Junkrat knew what he wanted, what he _needed_. His mate was long gone and he wasn't having it. He conjured a new plan in that sharp brain of his.

If he really, _really_ wanted to get Hog's attention, Junkrat needed more. Something louder, something with more color, and always something with more _boom_. He knew he needed more than what was on hand and what was a few quick lifts to get them, along with the small adrenaline rush. It was only a few small pharmacies and a gas station away from what he needed. What he really wanted. He had to make it obvious, just in case.

It didn’t hurt using what ammo remained in his frag launcher along the way just to stir things up a bit either.

Hog would come back.

* * *

Junkrat lined the massive vault with his brand-new, better-than-ever homemade explosives, ready to blow at the flick of his thumb, as always. Because he was always in control. Even when Mako was around. Though, it was way easier for the big guy to take control and order a bunch of people around based on his size alone. It was part of his appeal to Rat, what made him so unbelievably hot. He _loved_ that big lug and all that he was. But Rat had to focus- even all the people he'd just bound and gagged couldn't even drown out the fond memories. Memories of their first heist, and even their last in Dorado, despite it being so long ago.

But Junkrat refused to let that be their last ride. He would get his Hog back. The good times wouldn't stay memories. New ones would keep being made. _Mako would come back_.

He stood tall and looked around him, the detonator clutched tight in his flesh hand. Might’ve been shaking, but he definitely wasn’t nervous. Not a bit. Multiple hostages and explosives set all by himself. His lips couldn't resist curling into a sadistic grin; he'd done all this on his own. With no help. What did he need a bodyguard for, anyway?

He barely realized his eyes were watering before his thumb hit the button and there was only the exhilarating noise of the explosion in his ears before the flames and smoke took him once more.

. . .

Ringing. So much ringing in his ears. His whole body felt entirely too warm.

Did he forget to take cover again? Oh well; it wasn't the first time.

There were bright lights, excited chatter, people dressed in white rushing by-

Did he die?? Wasn’t there supposed to be like, churchy music playing when that happened?

Oh well. There wasn't much to his life anyway beyond riches and anarchy and sulfur and a leather mask and-

He panicked when he realized he couldn’t feel his limbs, but lost consciousness as he felt a prick in his arm. He always did hate needles.

. . .

He might have woken up again, but it was darker this time. Maybe stars above? The smell of fresh air… Scenery whisking by too fast to see. Maybe he didn’t die, after all.

There was noise, too. Besides the ringing this time. A low hum. Vibration. The familiar smell of oil and metal...

There was something soft under his head. And there was blackness again.

. . .

It was quiet now. Warm. Junkrat could smell a fire burning close by. Was he still in the bank? There was a cool breeze. It couldn’t have been that super bright, heaven-y place. How long was he out?

He finally tried to open his eyes, expecting to see nothing but red and cinders and smoldering marble around him. It was always a welcome sight. Or maybe he didn’t even know what he was expecting to see. Finally his eyes cracked opened as he groaned, turning toward the warmth as he saw-

“Hoggy!!”

Said Hoggy only grunted, leaning over to secure him, knowing he’d immediately try to move despite his injuries. “Take it easy.”

Immediately, Junkrat clung to Hog's massive arm, not intending to let him leave this time. He finally realized he was devoid of both his prostheses when he less-than-gracefully face-planted into the massive bicep. But he didn’t care. He could almost admit he felt like crying, seeing the big lug for the first time in ages. Almost. His big, goofy grin on his face was probably clear as day anyway; even with the pounding in his head that demanded he lay back down. Rat could feel a meshy fabric around his forehead as he rubbed it against the arm. “You left,” he said finally. Quietly. Like he was afraid of scaring the older man off again.

He felt his partner shift, but thankfully not out of his grip. The massive man let himself be held a moment before he returned the embrace. “Only gone a day. You skipped town before I got back. Almost had to knock a few heads to get you out of the hospital yesterday.”

_What?!_

“No- Hog-! It was days! Swear on me mum it was! Waited ages for ya!”

He saw Hog shift again, even in his still-hazy state he was able to read that faceless expression. “You asked for supplies,” Hog started, “Went to get 'em. Told you that before I left. Just took longer than I wanted.

“Came back and you were gone. Town was too quiet for you to have stuck around, so figured- hoped- you went to the nearest house. Found another bloke in our bed and not you. ‘Bout beat him half to death when he didn’t tell me where you took off to. Had to chase yer trail for days. Lucky you ain't inconspicuous. Just followed the collateral.” Hog finally granted him some long-awaited affection, gently rubbing a massive thumb over Rat’s bandaged temple. “Almost got yourself killed, idiot.”

Junkrat giggled, far too amused his partner found him so easy. And maybe a bit that he nearly killed a rando over him. He hoped Hog wouldn’t be too sore over that. But it still didn't explain his last heist. Or even remembering asking Roadie to fetch anything for him. His grasp on the thick arm tightened as his frantic eyes darted to every little curve and edge of his partner as if trying to confirm he was there, then to those familiar blank lenses for an answer. Instead he giggled again, resting his head back, awkwardly hugging Hog’s arm. Only having one-and-a-half of his own made it difficult.

His prayers were answered, but the deity was still a stubborn cunt.

“Jamie,” the cunt said. “Talk to me, Boss.”

Rat sat up again to fire back at him. Frustrated again. “Fuck you want me to say? You fuckin' left me in that motel, ya drongo. What was I s'posed to think? Didn’t think you were ever comin’ back, thought you were mad, thought I fucked somethin’ up again-”

“Shh,” Hog tried to soothe him. “Wasn’t your fault. Should've left a note. M'sorry. Won't leave you again.”

“Better fuckin’ not.”

“Promise.”

Despite the gears that continued spinning in his head, there was so much resistance to stop it. So much air that made him dizzy, static that made him feel numb, though he continued to cling to that strong arm. _Roadie came back_. He giggled once more, ignoring tears he didn’t feel falling as he adjusted the arm so he could rest against a soft belly, the words having put him at ease along with his Hoggy's gentle touch. Junkrat watched the fire burn in its rounded enclosure, content to be lost to the void again. Now that he knew he was safe. At home. “Love ya, Roadie.”

As he drifted off in a much more comfortable sleep, in his frazzled and still-busy mind, he thought he heard, “Love you too, Jamie”, but maybe it was just the mess of ringing again. He’d think about how familiar it sounded tomorrow, when he knew he would wake up to Roadhog. _His_ Roadhog.

_He came home_.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and crits appreciated. 
> 
> I also doodle lots of RoadRat stuff on my Tumblr and Insta of the same name. Please consider giving me a look!  
> http://boltedbee.tumblr.com/  
> https://www.instagram.com/boltedbee/


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